


Prepare The Brush For Me (I'm Craving With This Need)

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Body Paint, Body Worship, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fine Artist! Draco Malfoy, Frottage, Licking, M/M, Nibbling, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smell, Taste Kink, Taste Of Smut Fest, TasteofSmut 2020, Touch, Treacle Tart Body Paint, sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24333958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Harry Potter is feeling artistic. Draco is his canvas.Based on EvAEleanor's amazing prompt: Character A is an artist and his favourite canvas is character B.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 180
Collections: Taste of Smut Fest





	Prepare The Brush For Me (I'm Craving With This Need)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvAEleanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvAEleanor/gifts).



> Thank you to the lovely mods tasteofshapes, EvAEleanor, VeelaWings and unicorninthelibrary for creating this wonderful fest. 
> 
> The senses described in this story are taste, sight, touch and scent. The title is taken from the 1982 Spandau Ballet song _Paint Me Down._

Draco stood back, examining every millimetre of the portrait sat before him on an easel. He was finally happy with his work. 

The artist had painted Kingsley Shacklebolt in thick enchanted oils and the Minister stared back at him forcefully, his brown eyes fiery and impassioned. There was a thick roll of parchment clutched inside the politician’s hand, a representation of the Elf Emancipation reforms that their leader had championed, and his robes shimmered and danced. 

Draco narrowed his eyes, muffling a yawn with the back of his hand. He was rarely as pleased with one of his artworks as he was with this particular commission. As his eyes took in every facet of Shacklebolt’s image Draco felt a well-known shiver of recognition coil in his belly. It was the feeling that only came when one of his portraits was nearly complete. 

Draco lay down his brush and Scourgifed it with a nod of wandless magic. Draco was proud of his hard-won reputation as the most sought-after magical portrait artist in wizarding London but it had arrived only at the price of endless hours locked away in his studio. As he cast a quick Tempus Draco was astonished to see that it was already past seven. 

_Merlin_. He was already half an hour late for his evening date with Harry.

The artist hurriedly wrapped his paints in a stasis spell and cast a protection spell on his canvas. He was just sliding his few reference photographs back into his satchel into when there was a surprise knock on his studio door. 

Draco grinned, feeling the tick of his pulse pick up at the sound. It seemed that Harry, as impetuous as ever, had gotten bored of waiting and decided to come find him. Draco dived to the door and broke the Colloportus with a single swish of his wand. 

Potter was stood behind it, as large as life and twice as gorgeous. The wizard wore a self-satisfied smirk on his louche, bespectacled face and he was holding what looked like a tube of oil paint in his wand-calloused fingers. When Harry saw Draco looking he shoved it deep down into his pocket. 

“Mmm. You couldn’t wait even another half hour Harry?” Draco asked, feeling the heat of his lover’s eyes flick across his body. Draco seldom thought about his appearance when he was working, and he had no doubt that he looked a paint-splattered fright, but it seemed that Harry didn’t mind. “I hadn’t forgotten we were meeting,” Draco said. “The time just ran away with me a little.”

“It always does,” Harry replied. Draco moved to the side and motioned for him to enter his studio. Harry padded over the dusty floorboards and stood in front of Shacklebolt’s portrait, examining it from every angle. “I can see where the time went, though. It’s bloody brilliant, Malfoy. Your best portrait yet. This’ll make your name, love. The great and the good of the wizarding world will come chasing you.”

Draco slid behind Harry and snaked his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, sliding a cheeky hand under the hem of his tee shirt. Harry felt delicious under his fingertips, all hard muscle and silky soft skin and Draco walked the pads of his fingers over the happy trail of hair that led into Harry’s jeans. 

“The great and the good can chase me all they wish,” Draco murmured, leaning forward to balance his head on Harry’s shoulder, “but you’re the only one I’d ever let catch me.”

Harry liked that answer. He turned around to face Draco and without a moment hesitation kissed him soundly. Harry kissed slowly, but firmly, investigating the shape of Draco’s mouth with his own.

Draco let the moment wash over him like a charm. Harry brought his hands up to gently cup the sides of his face, feasting on his lips and letting his darting, flirtatious tongue explore. Potter tasted as wonderful as always, a smidgen like the mint of a teeth cleaning charm and a little like chocolate. 

It had been far too many days since Harry had kissed him and Draco felt himself nearly melt into the embrace. Potter’s kisses were an artwork of their very own. Potter’s kisses were first deep, then shallow, and his rough fingers knotted though Draco’s blond hair, mussing it up thoroughly. 

Draco felt his cock jump to attention in response to Harry’s mouth and he canted his hips towards Harry’s own, evidence of his desire springing up in his trousers. “I want you,” Draco whispered, breaking their kisses. “It’s been too long.”

“Not quite yet,” Harry teased, taking a step backwards and finding Draco’s eyes with his own. They shone with mischief and Draco felt a shiver race down his spine. Whenever Potter gave him that look it meant trouble of the most amorous sort. “I’ve got a little present that I picked up today which I thought we’d share first. A little something that I thought you’d enjoy.”

“You don’t mean that tube of paint?” Draco frowned, wondering what on Merlin’s green earth Harry had got planned for him. The last thing he wanted to do was stand behind an easel once again. Draco wanted to be ravished and worshipped to within an inch of his life. “What _precisely_ have you plotted in that beautiful head of yours?” he wondered aloud, letting his hands ghost over Harry’s forearms. 

“Your artistry has inspired me, Draco,” Harry replied, transfiguring Draco’s studio table into a bed. He seized Draco by the waist and crowded him over to it, pushing him onto its soft covers when they got close enough. “And you’ll need to take off that shirt of yours. You’re going to get rather messy otherwise, love.”

“Mmm. Messy sounds good,” Draco muttered, his lithe fingers clumsy with excitement as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Messy sounds like _exactly_ what the Healer ordered.” 

Harry gazed at him hungrily, tugging the cotton over Draco’s shoulders as soon as he reached the final button. They shared another long, deep kiss and then Harry was crawling over his body, pulling off his own thin cotton top as he did so. Draco hissed with arousal at the sight. Potter was all potent strength and self-contained magic. Harry’s trousers bulged with proof of his blatant excitement and Draco brushed a palm over his own matching erection. 

“Are you going to suck me off?” Draco asked, feeling his body quiver with need. “I’d love that Harry. Can’t wait to feel your mouth on me, love.”

“Not quite yet sweetheart,” Harry said, his voice a warm rumble. He took the tube of paint out from his pocket and showed it to Draco. “Went to Honeydukes earlier. They were selling a new little product that inspired me to take a leaf out of _your_ spell book. Treacle Tart flavoured body paint. You’re not the only artist in our relationship. I’m feeling a little bit creative, Malfoy.”

With a nod of wandless magic Harry Accio’ed one of Draco’s thin paintbrushes from the glass jam jar where it lived. He opened the paint tube with his teeth and squeezed a dollop out onto Draco’s nipple. Grinning broadly, Harry dragged the paintbrush through the treacle paint, the bristles titillating Draco’s nerves and making him gasp and fidget. 

“So I get to be your canvas,” Draco said. “I like it… Fuck but it feels brilliant to be on the receiving end of the paint for once in my existence.” Harry vanished Draco’s trousers and yanked at the buttons fastening his own. Draco hooked his fingers under Harry’s waistband and drew them down over his lover’s hips. 

It took mere seconds for the Auror’s ardent lips to close over Draco’s pebbled nipple, licking away the syrupy, sensual chocolate with broad strokes of his tongue and teasing nips of his teeth. 

“You taste scrumptious,” Harry declared, rearing up to brush those same lips on Draco’s mouth. Draco let his own tongue explore, chasing the sticky taste of treacle around his mouth. The act was intimate yet sexy and his cock throbbed with want. “Love this,” Harry groaned, pulling away. “Want you for my dessert everyday.”

“Always knew you had a sweet tooth,” Draco smirked, revelling in the heat of Harry’s glances. He raised a questioning eyebrow at his lover. “And where, precisely, would you like to begin painting me?”

Harry didn’t reply with words. Instead the wizard dripped the cool paint down the length of Draco’s torso and sides, spreading each droplet with the rough tips of his fingers. 

“Such a perfect, flawless canvas,” Harry admired, joining each daub with his paintbrush. “I want to decorate every inch of you.” Harry painted little swirls and constellations of stars. He painted invocations of adoration and the runic letters for love. Harry worshipped, adored and caressed everywhere that his mouth met his lover. Draco laughed softly when he felt Harry’s lips bite lightly onto the knob of his hip. 

“Move onto your front,” Harry urged, licking a line down the back of Draco’s thigh. “I’ve got plans for the rest of this paint.”

Draco didn’t need telling twice. He rolled over, humming with pleasure as Harry tickled the curve of his arse cheeks with the paintbrush. His beloved adored giving massages and tonight was no exception. Draco felt himself tremble as Harry’s loving fingertips caressed the knots out of his shoulder. Then Harry took his time, carefully painting loops and swirls all over the hard muscles of Draco’s back, making the artist arch and squirm under each stroke. Draco could hardly contain his enjoyment at Harry’s ministrations. 

“I never _imagined_ that you harboured such an artistic soul Potter,” Draco whimpered as Harry leant in, nibbling and kissing his tailbone. “ _Ahh_. Your mouth of yours is going to end me… Mm. I’m only glad you’ve finally found your muse.”

“That’s a fancy word from a fancy man,” Harry murmured with a low, throaty chuckle. He rolled his playful tongue over his art, his mouth flitting and dancing over Draco’s skin. “All I know is that you look bloody amazing like this. I’m besotted by you.” Harry’s mouth journeyed up Draco’s spine before he added a few more twirls and twists to the design. “You’re exquisite.”

Harry manoeuvred Draco onto his back then, and the pair kissed passionately. Draco’s skin was slick with sweat and sticky with treacle but he didn’t give a sickle about his appearance. Harry’s body above him was a long line of heat and Draco wanted him, wanted him more than he could endure. 

“I covet you,” Draco managed. “I’ve dreamt about you all day long.” Harry laughed and kissed him, drizzling paint from Draco’s belly-button down to his pubic hair and over his tight, sensitive balls. The blond wizard moaned wantonly as Harry stroked the tip of his paintbrush to the very tip of Draco’s erection. 

“Look at you. A work of art.” Harry’s mouth closed around Draco’s cock. His hot mouth was rough with urgency and Draco felt any semblance of respectability that he might once have possessed vanish as quickly as a charm. Draco threw his head back against his pillows, a shameless ramble of desirous words falling from his mouth. His lover’s tongue spiralled over the length of his cock and Draco felt himself grow harder with every lick, suck and roll of his foreskin. 

Potter teased him to the brink of his orgasm and Draco whined loudly when Harry drew back his mouth, licking wet reddened lips and staring at Draco’s hard length. He held Draco’s balls tightly and stopped his lover’s orgasm in its tracks. Draco undulated his pelvis, desperate for friction against his weeping cock. 

“Will you fuck me?” Draco asked, his voice raspy and urgent. “Please?” Harry nodded, his eyes were dark with lust and his cheeks flushed. Draco’s cock was heavy and full, already slick with precome and treacle and, before Draco could really process what had occurred, Potter had pulled Draco up to straddle his lap. 

Soon the wizards were frotting with unrestrained need. Harry’s fingers were wet with spit and magicked lube, and they worked open Draco’s entrance carefully, stretching his muscles and getting him ready to take Potter’s length. There was an urgency to Harry’s touches and Draco pushed himself down onto Harry's fingers, his body opening itself up wide and ready for sex. Their teeth clattered against each other’s as they kissed and Draco panted, suddenly light-headed from their embraces. 

Harry scissored Draco with his fingers for long minutes until the blond could resist no longer. “I’m ready,” Draco gasped as Harry withdrew his hand. “Circe but I want you so much.” 

Draco kissed Harry hard. His lover’s mouth was bitter with Draco’s precome and sweet with the taste of treacle. Not wanting to pull away from Harry’s lips, Draco reached between their bodies. He guided Harry’s prick toward his fluttering arse. 

“You look so beautiful,” Harry said, breaking the kiss as Draco teased them both. The artist ran the head of Harry’s leaking cock over his entrance until neither wizard could wait even a second longer. “My beloved.” 

Draco sank onto Harry’s prick slowly. The only sounds in his studio the insensible groans that escaped from his mouth as Harry pushed into him and stretched him wide. Potter’s thick cock entered Draco, filling him full and brushing over his sweet spot. 

For a moment Harry held Draco quite still and the artist felt the frisson of Potter’s strong magic ripple over his skin. Fuck, but Harry was every inch the almighty wizard that Draco had always imagined him to be. 

Harry held Draco tight, his thick fingers splayed wide on his back. Then he kissed Draco once more, fucking the artist’s mouth and rocking his powerful hips in time with each thrust of his tongue. Harry’s lovemaking was simultaneously overwhelming and intoxicating. Draco felt like he’d been stripped of a layer of his skin. 

There was little Draco could do but let himself be thoroughly, exhaustively shagged. 

Soon Draco was gasping, the tears rolling down his face as he buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. One of the artist’s hands was knotted up Harry’s ridiculous curls and the other clasped at Potter’s shoulder, clutching hard enough at the skin to leave a bruise. Potter bucked up and into Draco at a savage pace and it was all Draco could do just to take it, his whole body a mess of overstimulation.

Harry rolled Draco over then. The artist found himself pinned under the heft of Potter’s chest while he panted and wheezed, still stimulated from his exhaustive workout of moments before. Draco pushed his hips down, fucking himself on Harry’s cock at a more unhurried pace and finally catching his breath. 

Draco’s hands were everywhere, gliding over the solid muscles of Potter’s back and kneading the globes of his perfectly rounded arse. 

“That’s right,” Harry rasped, his breath hot and whiskey-sweet in Draco’s mouth. He rolled his pelvis then, meeting the lazy undulations of Draco’s hips. “You feel so good, love. Hot and tight around my cock… That’s right. Fuck yourself baby. That’s right. Just like that.” Draco’s heart raced and hammered at Harry’s words and Potter’s red lips nibbled a line of kisses over his jaw, neck and shoulders. 

Draco was melting, his skin aflame as Harry tantalised all the places that made him clench and shudder. His lover licked, and caressed, sucked and nibbled and Draco felt his whole body begin to tremble. 

When Harry tortured his nipples with a darting, teasing tongue, Draco felt the first shuddering coils of orgasm begin to build in his belly. “Harry,” Draco managed, grinding his hips down on the unrelenting girth of Harry’s cock. “I need more… Please.”

Harry lifted his mouth from Draco’s aching nipple. “Need me to fuck you?” Harry asked, his lips wet, wanton and smirking. He kissed the corners of Draco’s mouth with luscious, tender need.

Draco couldn’t help myself. “Godric, yes!” he moaned, his voice broken and urgent. Draco writhed and wriggled, driving himself down onto Harry’s cock with messy, uncontrolled thrusts. He was vulnerable, loose and his every nerve ending seemed to be firing randomly. “Yes. Fuck me! _Please!_ ”

“Shhh,” Harry murmured, undulating his hips to meet Draco’s own. “I’ll fuck you, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

Draco held on tight, held on for his sheer life and soul. His body felt hardly tethered to the Earth as Harry fucked him thoroughly. Draco kissed the other wizard wherever he could reach. He pressed wet, untidy kisses on Potter’s jaw and upon the thin skin of his lover’s throat. 

For the tiniest splinter of a second Draco even forgot that they were separate people. 

A pure pleasure rose up in Draco, even, steady and so, so compelling. Draco’s head swam with it and his vision blurred. His balls drew up and then Draco’s cock pulsed, painting white strips of come on both of their bellies. He quivered and shook, drowning in the sensation as Harry followed him over the edge, fucking him until a sensual warmth pooled deep inside the artist. 

Their heads were pressed together, their breath was mingled and their mouths were joined. Draco felt the oddest sensation of tingly, spiky heat roll through his whole body, spiralling down to the very tips of his toes. 

When Draco finally came to, Harry lay beside him, walking a careful finger over his shoulder and kissing him gently. “I must confess, I admire your artistry,” Draco whispered, his whole body lax and idle from the lovemaking. Aftershocks still coiled through his body and his skin felt tingly. Beside him, Harry was smiling down at him, a sleepy glaze making his green eyes sheeny. “ _Mmm_. Perhaps next time I’ll be the artist,” Draco said. “Use you as the canvas.”

“Oh yes?” Harry asked, leaning in to press a lazy kiss on Draco’s mouth. The scent of the treacle between them was both cloying and sweet but neither wizard could bear to spell themselves clean yet. It was easier to wrap their arms around each other and hold each other close. “And what would you paint? Words of love? Symbols of devotion?”

Draco’s face flushed. He tried to frown but there wasn’t any heat in his gesture. He lay his head on Harry’s chest, listening to the thrum of his lover’s heart. 

“I might just do that,” Draco conceded, carding his fingers through the thick hairs that patterned Harry’s chest. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx
> 
> * * *
> 
> 💋 This work is part of the Taste of Smut Fest, a Harry Potter-centered fest dedicated to the five senses: taste, touch, smell, hearing, and sight. 
> 
> If you’ve enjoyed this work, please do shower our content creators with kudos and comments! 💌
> 
> [Please check out the fest's tumblr for more posts and updates](https://tasteofsmut.tumblr.com/)


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